How To Evict a Hot Jock in Three Weeks - Anyta Sunday Page 0,13
the bartender. “Forget it.”
“Forget what?”
“You’ve been acting . . .”
Logan stiffened. “Been what?”
“You know what, I need that drink.”
They sat at the bar under red-filtered light. Alexander drank his chardonnay like it was chilled apple juice on a scorching day. Logan chugged his beer. They worked hard to focus on the bar and their beefy tattooed neighbors.
“Why are you ripping that napkin?” Alexander asked.
Logan continued ripping, quietly freaking out. “Nothing I love better than chewin’”—Logan popped a shred in his mouth—“and spittin’.”
Logan aimed for the empty beer glass and missed. “Harder than it looks. Wanna try?”
He offered a pinch-faced Alexander a torn bit of napkin.
“I’ll leave that to the expert.”
Logan spat a second piece into the glass. An unusual amount of pride surged through him, but it was probably best not to inspect that too closely.
“What is your plan with me?” Alexander asked. “What part of this is fun? If your answer involves ‘finding a dead body in the alley,’ our burgeoning friendship is over.”
Burgeoning friendship? Logan stowed his surprise behind his trepidation. Alexander was enviously calm considering what Logan was putting him through. Admirable, even.
Logan caught the bartender’s eye and ordered them another round.
Alexander sipped his second wine, awaiting an answer.
“I just wanna get to know ya.”
Alexander straightened. His clear voice rang down the bar. “I’m a gay Democrat who believes this country needs a social system that protects everyone.”
Agreed, but why would Alexander announce that so loudly in here? Did he have a death wish? “Are you out of your mind?”
“I’m not.”
The rowdy banter down the bar ceased and Logan threw back his beer. Time to scram.
A brutish-looking man with shoulders the size of basketballs and a tattoo that read ‘I Fucked Your Mom’ glared at them.
Oh, no. Logan grabbed Alexander’s arm above the elbow.
Alexander wormed out of Logan’s grip. “I’ll never understand people voting away their right to universal free healthcare.”
Fucked-Your-Mom’s friend, Killed-Those-Bitches, sneered. “What’d you say?”
Alexander met Fucked-Your-Mom’s dead eyes. “I believe in universal healthcare, sir.”
God, how did Alexander hold himself with such poise and elegance?
“Little shit thinks he’s better than us.”
Alexander hummed. “Look, I’m upset. My dad felt the repercussions of four years of the orange clown.”
Fucked-Your-Mom spoke in a low voice to Killed-Those-Bitches, while Alexander gazed at Logan from behind his wine. It didn’t soothe the wrath of their new friends.
Fucked-Your-Mom nodded to Killed-Those-Bitches. “I reckon we show him some real nasty colors. Like black and blue.”
Logan burst out into a fanatical laugh and slung a casual arm around Alexander, crushing him hard against him. Logan noogied Alexander’s head and whipped out a gruff laugh. “This guy here thinks he’s funny.”
Killed-Those-Bitches spoke. “I reckon we show him how funny we think he is.”
Logan’s shirt did not muffle Alexander’s voice enough. “Careful what you say. My friend here is part caveman. He will defend me.”
“He will?” At Alexander’s accusing look, Logan gruffed up his voice and reassuringly thumped Alexander’s back. “He will.”
“That guy?” Fucked-Your-Mom said. “I got a hundred pounds on him.”
More, probably.
Logan nodded enthusiastically. “Good point. Only a fair fight if you pick on your own size.” He swiveled Alexander’s barstool with his foot. “Let’s skedaddle.”
He hefted his roommate over his shoulder.
Alexander’s shocked breath drifted over Logan’s skin where his T-shirt had risen.
“Now wait a minute,” Fucked-Your-Mom said. Yeah, no thanks.
Logan dashed for the door as Alexander wriggled to free himself. He deposited him on the cracked sidewalk, panting from exertion and adrenaline. Alexander patted down his ruffled clothes. “I don’t think hauling me out of there was necessary.”
A few steps later, a shout assaulted their ears. “Your funny friend forgot something.”
Logan spun around to see a fist hurtling toward a surprised Alexander.
Logan jumped into its path. His head snapped back and pain lanced over his cheekbone, up his scalp. He staggered back, caught by strong arms.
Fucked-Your-Mom spat at their feet. “Don’t come back here.”
After stumbling home in pain, Alexander muttering how impolite those men were, Logan headed for the freezer, but Alexander nudged him against the counter and told him to stay still.
Alexander wrapped a dishtowel around a frozen pack and dabbed it against Logan’s head. His body radiated warmth against Logan’s front and Logan inhaled the herbal smell of him. “Methinks you need to expand your vocabulary.”
Alexander’s eyes snapped to his. “My vocabulary?”
“Impolite? He tried to punch my brains out.”
“That whole affair could have gone better. Try dodging in the other direction next time.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
Alexander’s cheeks pinked and he refocused on Logan’s swelling eye. His voice lowered, soft,